Shaw's Secret Revealed
by quistie64
Summary: Shaw has a secret, one that will lead to his timely death.  My entry into jaytoyz Kill-Shaw-athon


**A/N: This is my entry into jaytoyz "how many ways can we kill Shaw" derby. It is completely random. It takes place fairly early on in his time in LA with Team Bartowski.**

**Don't own Chuck. No animals were injured in the telling of this story. Can't promise the same for Shaw.**

**Shaw's Secret Revealed**

Special Agent Daniel Shaw had a secret. He was good at keeping secrets, a good thing since he was a CIA agent. He kept this secret to himself because he knew no one in the Agency would understand. They maybe would even tease him about it. He had no sense of humor when it came to his secret. Oh, sure. The rest of the time he was a laugh riot, the life of the party. But this secret was to be kept to himself forever.

You see, Special Agent Daniel Shaw loved to go to Renaissance Faires. He had a secret closet full of costumes: court jester, king, minstrel, blacksmith, knight, merchant, courtier. He even had a real suit of armor for when he jousted. He loved to stroll through the dusty grounds of the faire, taking in the colorful sights of the costumes, the sounds of people speaking in the King's English and the smell of roasting turkey legs and chemical toilets.

Everyone knew him at the Faire, and they loved him, especially when he dressed as a court jester. All would laugh and clap for him as he danced and juggled and minced about, telling jokes and riddles. He did not know that they were just being nice to him, since in reality, they all thought Frankenstein's monster had a better personality than him.

Special Agent Daniel Shaw was thrilled when he was transferred to Los Angeles because they had one of the best Faires in the country in Irwindale, a short distance east of Burbank. He would go every chance he got, now that he was so close. He wanted to ask his co-worker, Agent Sarah Walker to go with him and had even bought her a low cut wench's costume for her to wear. It would certainly show off her...huge "tracts of land". He imagined her walking with him, hand in hand through the grounds, he dressed as an innkeeper and she as his serving wench. But he did not know if he could trust her with his secret. Not yet. She seemed confused about her relationship with one of the other agents on the team, that tech-head nerd Chuck. He definitely wouldn't like a Renaissance Faire. No gadgets, too low tech. Until he knew he could trust her, he had to keep his secret.

Special Agent Daniel Shaw was excited about this weekend's faire. He had signed up weeks ago to be in the jousting tournament. He spent every evening polishing and shining his suit of armor, preparing for the day. He lovingly fingered the plume that shot from the top of his helmet. Other people thought armor was restrictive to movement, but strangely enough, he didn't seem to notice a difference. He supposed he was just better suited to it.

Special Agent Daniel Shaw packed up his armor and all of his gear in the back of his Pontiac Aztec and drove to Irwindale. It was a beautiful day, the sky blue and big puffy white clouds drifted across the sky. Even the smog had blown farther east. He carried his armor to the jousting list and set up his gear in one of the striped pavilions. He fingered the balsa wood lances and the heavy shield already left for him in the tent. Although they looked real, the lances they used were lightweight wood to ensure no one would be injured as they shattered on contact.

Excitement coursed through his veins as he put on his armor with the help of his "page." He trundled up steps of the platform set up next to the horse, placed one foot in the stirrup and slung his other leg over the horse's back. He settled into his saddle and was handed a lance. He put on his helmet, but did not yet close the visor. His page led the horse to the starting place on his side of the tilt. His opponent was in place on the other side of the tilt, his lance pointing straight up, his visor already down, covering his face.

The crowd was electrified. They were thrilled to see horses and knights locked in mortal combat. Of course they knew it was all play acting, but it was still exciting. Shaw's lance pointed up straight at the sky. He raised the lance in salute to his opponent. His opponent returned the salute. Shaw lowered his visor and leveled his lance and pointed it toward his opponent. His opponent mirrored his actions. They both waited for the flag on the stick to drop, the signal to race toward each other. Through the slit in his visor, Shaw saw the flag drop. He spurred on his horse, who took off like a shot straight for the oncoming lance. He raised his shield and waited for impact and the breakage of his lance against his opponent's shield and their lance against his shield. His lance shattered, his opponents did not. In fact, the last thing Special Agent Daniel Shaw saw was the specially made titanium lance aimed directly at his chest. He was skewered like a piece of beef on a kebob. The crowd was in awe of how real it all looked. Little did they know.

Special Agent Daniel Shaw's opponent acknowledged the cheer of the crowd with a wave and maneuvered his horse to stop in front of a group of three special people. The large man with the flinty blue eyes was dressed like Little John, complete with wooden staff. The much smaller man with the dark beard was dressed in a court jester's outfit. The beautiful blonde woman was dressed like a princess. They clapped and cheered for their champion, who raised his visor to reveal a wide, toothy grin and an eyebrow dance.


End file.
